Once upon a time, long before I was even a twinkle in his eye, my dad lived in a house in Los Angeles that had an apricot tree in the yard. One summer the apricot tree produced an amazing amount of fruit, and my dad, being the man he is, decided to make jam. My dad and I are devoted lovers of stone fruits- cherries, apricots, plums- they all disappear when laid in front of us. He wanted to preserve the pure, manna from heaven flavor of apricots and decided to add nothing to this jam, no sugar, no lemon juice, no pectin, nothing, and just cook it down until it was nice and thick, golden and gooey. It took him three days. He turned off the stove to sleep, of course, and he says, when it was finally finished, it was sheer heaven.
(Yes, I sometimes write recipes on the cartons cherries come in, I don’t always have paper handy in the kitchen. And yes, that is a picture of my trash after cherry-pitting, it looked so pretty, I couldn’t resist. Reminded me a bit of this post.)
Inspired by this story, and …]
I need them. I’m a little nearsighted. I rarely wear my glasses and I’ve become used to my slightly out-of-focus world.
Sadly, slightly out-of-focus doesn’t really work for photography, at least not when you thought the picture was completely in-focus. Like this one. When I took it I thought it was as sharp as could be. Then someone pointed out that maybe the label was clear, but couldn’t the skin of the lemon be a little better defined?
As it turns out, I should look through these lenses before looking through the camera’s.
*I would like to note that I took this photo sans glasses (obviously) but they turned out as crisp as a freshly ironed shirt. Sometimes I get lucky.
When I was working on the blueberry banana cake I visited my friend Alex and took him a slice, looking for his opinion. He liked it, suggested adding more blueberries, then thought that chocolate and peanut butter would make it even better.
Inspired, I set out to make this cake.
Last summer, I sent my dad some heirloom tomato plants from an organic farm in southern California. This summer, I received a box from FedEx, opening it up as I climbed the stairs to my apartment, I used my keys to cut the tape.
It contained two tomatoes, swathed in bubble wrap, juicy and soft. This was the only plant that survived the winter, and it began taking over my parents’ backyard over a month ago. When the first fruit started to appear, we weren’t sure what color it would end up being: would the tomatoes be purple when ripe? Red? White? As it turns out, they remained green.
Thanks dad!
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I might have bought a whole flat of raspberries the other day.
It’s just that they were so cheap, and raspberries are usually such a luxury item. The opportunity to own so many raspberries at one time was too exciting to pass up.
I lugged them home on the subway. Some woman next to me asked if I was selling them, I had to tell her, no, I wasn’t, they were all for me. I wasn’t even sure of what I would do with them yet.
The Brooklyn Botanic Gardens are free on Tuesday, so I went over there and lay on the grass under a tree.
Read a book.
Talked to my parents, and drank a lemon soda.
Perfect summer day.
Soda, so much fun to make. So easy too, and so worth the modicum of effort you put into it. People are always extraordinarily impressed by home-made drinks. For some reason, the idea of making your own soda really amazes folks.
If you haven’t entered into the world of making sodas, please do. Try this blueberry soda recipe by Alton Brown. It can be adapted to all sorts of fruits. I made a strawberry-rhubarb soda back in May. Who knows what other permutations of this recipe will emerge from my kitchen.
You’ll want to take about 2 pints of blueberries (20 oz. or 570 g) and dump them into a pot with 2 cups (or 500 ml) of water. Bring it to a boil, then turn down the heat and let simmer for 15 minutes. Pour into a colander lined with cheesecloth, placed over a bowl or another pot. Let sit and then squeeze out the excess juice.
Add the juice of a lime and maybe 5 oz (140 g), of sugar, probably less. You could start with about 1/4 cup and then move up from there. Heat until the sugar is disolved. Pour into an empty milk jar …]
I love my farmers market. I go to the big one in Union Square, and this time of year, it’s just bursting with fresh fruits and vegetables, milk and cheese, flowers, honey, and most everything I could possibly want. When I get home, I proudly take out each item and display it on the table for Amir to admire. Perhaps it is some latent gathering instinct passed down through generations of women who searched fields, farms, and now farmers markets for food for their families. Or perhaps I’m just mildly insane. Whichever.
I made this gratin for my parents when they visited at the end of June. They tore through it. It was bright and fresh. There was grated zucchini, and lots of fresh herbs, some spring onions, and a tomato added in because it’s summer, and they’re everywhere, and you have to use them whenever possible. Then the whole thing was topped with cheesy bechemel, what’s not to love?
Well, not a lot really. My parents, as I said, loved it. They continued to think about it for a good 48 hours. I felt, however good it was the first time around, that there were unexplored possibilities …]
Today there is a memorial service for Michael Jackson at the Staples Center in Los Angeles, about 15 minutes from where I grew up and where I used to listen to Billie Jean on a walkman while sitting on the living room floor.
My mom started a gift basket company when I was about three-years-old, and one of her largest clients was MJ himself. He would send lavish gifts to his nearest and dearest, including his sister, Gregory and Veronique Peck (whom he thought of as a father), and Elizabeth Taylor.
My question for you is:
What animal did Mr. Jackson send to the above-mentioned celebrities on multiple occasions?
Please post your answers in the comments. The winner will be sent 1/2 pound of this cheese (I work at a cheese shop and have limited resources, it’s not like I’m the Pioneer Woman over here), or if you’re lactose intolerant or a cheese-hater we can work out some other deal. Seriously though, the Tumbleweed is insanely delicious, you want it, and I’ll be posting a recipe using it in the next few days.
Finally, a little salute to the King of Pop himself, one of the greatest performers ever, when he was just a tender …]
Remember this lonesome banana?
Well, I paired him up with these guys and made a cake.
A truly delicious, forgiving, easy to make cake that is the bastard child of my banana bread and Edna Lewis‘ Blueberry Cake. I also received a little help from this cake, which has been making the rounds on the internet lately. I have been playing around with proportions and flavors, and there is a part II to this story that involves peanut butter and chocolate.
Ms. Lewis’ Blueberry Cake makes use of leftover berries from canning, which I sadly do not have, so I cook mine down. You end up with a beautiful little blueberry sauce, which is perfect on its own, though you could add a little sugar and cook it down if you feel like spending an extra few minutes slaving over the stove.
All I can tell you is that when Amir was sitting at the kitchen table eating this two-day old cake, and dipping it in the sauce, he seemed very happy to be back in New York.
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